


Keep Your Head

by eggshellseas



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Fingering, Coming Untouched, Dirty Talk, Established Ambreigns, Frottage, Future Ambrolleigns, Intercrural Sex, Jealousy, M/M, Oral Sex, Prostate Massage, Resolved Sexual Tension, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, Unresolved Sexual Tension, bad communication skills, so much Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-21
Updated: 2019-05-26
Packaged: 2019-08-27 07:11:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16697797
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eggshellseas/pseuds/eggshellseas
Summary: It’s making Seth think about how long Roman and Dean have had to bond without him, and yes, Seth is totally aware he did that to himself, but that doesn’t make it any easier to feel like a third wheel in his own two man tag team.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This fic starts in September of 2017 and will not discuss Joe Anoai's illness in any capacity, though Dean's injury will be touched upon in the second chapter. All my well wishes to Roman for a full and speedy recovery.
> 
> The primary pairing in part 1 is Roman/Dean with mostly one-sided Seth/Dean. Part 2 will have all Shield slash combinations, but Roman/Seth is the least prominent, just to let you know upfront.
> 
> Rating will increase and tags will be added when the second chapter is posted.

Seth knows he’s an intense guy, but he’s really been trying to keep himself in check lately. He’s happy to be tagging with Dean, and he doesn’t want to mess anything up. At the top of his to- _not_ -do list is steamrolling Dean with over-enthusiasm, so he doesn’t take it personally that Dean still mostly rides with Roman, and he viciously suppresses his desire to make the nostalgic suggestion that they room together sometime. Seth can just imagine the weird look Dean would give him, and he has no desire to see it in real life. So he enjoys their matches, and their renewed brotherhood, and he tells himself it’s unrealistic to want things to be like they were before he ruined them. He’s having fun, and it’s all fine.

And then _Ride Along_ happens, with one little detail that Seth gets caught up on.

“When were you at Roman’s?” Seth asks, totally casual, as they wait for Roman to get back from his bathroom break. It’s not strange. He’s just continuing the conversation from earlier, and, besides, people love this personal stuff.

“Huh? Oh, I guess the last time was...” Dean rolls his head around slowly, cracking his neck as he thinks, “March probably.”

The last time, implying there’s been other times, and Roman’s visited Dean in Vegas - met his dog and everything. Seth’s never been to Dean’s place. He was sort of hoping that when the tour got over that way Dean might invite him to come hang out (but he’s not going to pitch the idea himself, nope - self-control). He and Dean had stayed with Roman a couple times when they were the Shield, but that was always to save money when they had a show in the area. It’s obviously not a surprise, but it’s making Seth think about how long Roman and Dean have had to bond without him, and yes, Seth is totally aware he did that to himself, but that doesn’t make it any easier to feel like a third wheel in his own two man tag team.

It keeps rolling around in the back of his head for the short rest of the drive, adding some emo to the nostalgia, and he’s completely earnest when he says he doesn’t want the night to be over. He wants to stay up talking until he knows all their in-jokes, and he doesn’t feel like he’s never going to be on even footing with them again. It’s not even that he’d undo anything. He thinks they all had to take their own journeys, cheesy as it sounds. He and Dean wouldn’t be this great together if they hadn’t spent so much time fighting each other. In fact, he probably got to know Dean more intimately as enemies than he did during that year of being brothers.

He knows Dean gets it, has heard him say as much, but now they can be friends again, and he doesn’t want - well, as vain as it might be, he doesn’t want to come in at a distant second to Roman. The realization twists uncomfortably in his chest, and he finds his mood flagging as they head into the hotel. It’s not helped when Seth somehow gets roped into taking a few more pictures while Roman and Dean disappear inside. _Traitors_ , he thinks when he finally makes it into the lobby and there’s no sign of either of them. The girl at the desk is flustered, presumably by all the superstars and cameras and the group of rowdy, eager kids who had to be asked to leave, and it’s understandable, but Seth is maybe not at his best, and can’t hide his impatience as he’s getting checked in, which only flusters her further.

He still blames her entirely for the fact that when he gets to the room and opens the door he finds it already occupied.

“Shit!” Seth’s about to apologize for a split second before he actually starts to process what he’s looking at, which is his erstwhile travel buddies. It happens very quickly, but it’s enough of an eyeful that the image of Dean and Roman plastered against each other, both of Roman’s hands up the back of Dean’s shirt, their faces way, way too close to be doing anything other than kissing is immediately burned into Seth’s brain.

Seth drops his bags and stares. Dean jerks away from Roman. There's a heavy, awkward pause. Roman looks at him and rubs the back of his neck sheepishly while Dean glares at nothing in particular.

“What the fuck?” Seth says finally.

A long “uh,” is Roman’s only response.

“You know what? Nevermind. I’m just gonna go back down and...sort this out...yeah,” he says as he slowly backs out of the room, feeling like his stomach has leapt up into his throat. Roman gives him a stilted nod, which is just weird on top of weird, although maybe better than Dean’s refusal to acknowledge him.

He nearly trips over his luggage and ends up unintentionally slamming the door closed. He leans against it for second and takes a deep breath. Even as he gathers his stuff and hustles towards the elevator, afraid of overhearing - _whatever_ is going on in there, there’s a part of him that’s clutching at straws, like maybe it was just an intense hug, or maybe he completely imagined the entire thing. And it’s not that he cares if either of them is gay or bi or whatever; Seth totally isn’t homophobic. Sure, there was a time in his life when he might’ve used the word gay as an insult, but he was a dumb kid in a small town in Iowa and he knows better now. He’s fooled around with a few dudes here and there. He did _Cyberfights_ for Christ’s sake. He has perhaps, on occasion, thought about kissing Dean like that, so it’s definitely not the gay thing that bothers him. It’s more that - Jesus, he’s even more out of the loop than he thought.

-

Dean stays frozen until the sound of Seth’s retreat down the hall fully recedes. Then he grabs a pillow and presses it to his face, muffling his yell of, “Fuck!”, as he falls back onto the bed.

Roman sighs and sits next to him on the mattress. He pries the pillow out of Dean’s grip with one hand, and wraps his other arm around Dean’s waist and pulls him onto his side so he can lie down and curl protectively against Dean’s back. Dean doesn’t fight his hold, but he can’t still his anxious fidgeting. Roman just hangs on, resting his chin on Dean’s shoulder.

“This sucks,” Dean mumbles.

“Yep,” Roman agrees.

“He’s gonna be so weird about it.”

“He’ll be fine,” Roman says, scratching Dean’s scalp. “I mean, it’s awkward, but it’s not like it’s a huge surprise.”

Dean, if possible, tenses even further. “What?”

“I mean, he knows we...whatever, right?”

“Not until a few minutes ago he didn’t,” Dean replies, his tone wry.

“You’re shitting me.”

“Nope.”

Roman falls silent for a minute, taking in this new development. Them being...whatever had never been addressed, but it wasn’t like he and Dean had been that stealthy. They’d always tried to be lowkey and respectful, but he’d figured Seth was sharp enough to have picked up on it. Apparently not. “Dude really didn't know?”

“I mean, this is Seth we're talking about; he was probably too busy plotting our downfalls to notice much else going on.” It’s said with a lot less bitterness than there would have been just a few months ago, but there’s still a little bit of venom in Dean’s voice.

“I thought that was part of why he did it,” Roman confesses, “and we just never acknowledged it.”

Dean wriggles around until he’s facing Roman. “Wait, seriously?” he says, frowning. “You thought he stabbed us in the back because he found out we were hooking up? And then just never used it against us or told the Authority or anything?”

“Maybe,” Roman says, defensive because it doesn’t sound _that_ crazy, and maybe he’d needed to think Seth wouldn’t give them up like that, not even when he was on the other side. Plus it’s not like Dean can pretend that any of them are that great at talking about any of this personal shit.

“No way,” Dean says immediately and decisively, unknowingly proving Roman’s point.

Roman just shrugs, because it’s not like he particularly wants to step in this ant hill, not when Dean and Seth have finally patched things up. He combs his fingers through Dean’s hair and pushes his head back to kiss him briefly. Dean tries to follow when he pulls away, and Roman grins. “Weren’t we supposed to be celebrating our victories or something?” he says.

“Something like that,” Dean answers with his own echoing smirk.

“Think I can get you back in the mood?” Roman murmurs, brushing his lips along Dean’s neck.

Dean’s breath hitches, but his reply of, “You can try,” is still full of attitude.

Roman snorts and runs his palms over Dean’s chest, pushing his shirt up to his armpits, and lets his smugness settle on his face as Dean arches and twists with his touch. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think that’s gonna be too hard,” he teases, brushing his thumbs against Dean’s nipples.

“You calling me a slut, uce?” Dean says, half-gasping and half-laughing.

“Real easy,” Roman drawls. There’s a fifty-fifty chance Dean will take that as a challenge to be impossible, but he cooperates in getting their clothes off, and then throws his arms around Roman’s neck, pulling him on top as he rolls onto his back, his heavy-lidded gaze making Roman’s dick twitch. Roman does love when he’s easy.

They spend a while kissing and rubbing off against each other lazily. Roman remembers how impatient Dean was when they’d first started messing around, like kissing was this toll you had to pay to get to the good stuff, but making out is kind of Roman’s jam, and he’d been persuasive enough to bring Dean around to his way of things. Dean’s a messy kisser too, which turns Roman on like nothing else.

He’s progressed to jacking Dean off with torturously slow strokes when Dean pushes at his shoulders for a breather. Roman’s kissed his lips wet and swollen, his face red with beard burn, and his chin shiny with spit. It makes Roman groan and try to get his tongue back in Dean’s mouth, but Dean holds him off.

He wipes his face off and then wraps that same hand around Roman’s cock. “Think he’s thinking about us?” he asks with an airiness that sounds forced.

“What?” Roman breathes, having difficulty thinking beyond the squeeze of Dean’s sticky palm.

“Rollins. Think he’s thinking about us banging right now?”

It’s catches Roman off guard, given how uncomfortable Dean had seemed with the Seth thing earlier, but he guesses this is Dean’s way of kind of discussing it without actually discussing it. Roman can roll with that, plus he’d very much like Dean to keep touching his dick, so he says, “Mm, probably,” nice and noncommittal.

“Yeah, bet he is. Bet he’s getting off on it.” Dean says, his voice smoky and his face flushed. “What do you think he’s imagining?”

“Tell you what, if I was Seth, I’d be picturing Dean Ambrose shutting up and sucking Roman Reigns’ huge cock,” Roman answers with a dirty grin and a none-too-subtle push on Dean’s shoulder.

Dean’s low, rumbling laugh rolls over him as he slides down Roman’s body, warming him inside and out. “Well if that’s what you think...”

-

In fact, Seth is actually doing his utmost to _not_ think about anything of the sort. His heart’s racing and there’s a weird ache in his gut, but he’s _not_ thinking about it.

After not sleeping well, Seth is woken up way too early by persistent knocking. “The fuck is the point of the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign,” he snaps as he opens the door.

“Let’s get breakfast,” Dean says, slouched in the doorway and popping his gum.

“I have to work out.”

“Do it later,” Dean shoots back, rolling his eyes.

After a brief stare-down, Seth sighs melodramatically and goes to grab his wallet and phone, and then follows Dean out.

There’s a Denny’s right next to the hotel, but Dean doesn’t want to run into anyone else they know, so he tells Seth to find a place, and of course Seth has some bougie local spot already scouted. As long as Dean can get coffee and a breakfast sandwich he’s fine.

“So,” he says once their food is in front of them.

“What?” Seth snips.

“So just get it out. Ask whatever you want to ask or whatever.”

Seth looks down at his plate and then away, drumming his fingers on the edge of the table. “So you and Roman?”

“Me and Roman,” Dean repeats when Seth’s pause drags on too long.

“What’s the deal?” Seth finishes, sounding exasperated.

“It’s just, you know, we just mess around,” Dean says, stumbling, and then, feeling strangely guilty, adds, “I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

“Well why don’t you tell me what the right idea is, Ambrose?” Seth’s tone has gone cold.

Dean stares intently at the floor. “It’s not a big deal. It didn’t make a difference before, and it won’t now either.”

Seth visibly blanches in surprise, and Dean curses at himself. “ _Before_? Wait, how long have you two been...whatever?”

Dean could lie, maybe _should_ lie, but as far as he’s concerned, even though they're square, Seth still lost any right to have his feelings coddled when he stabbed them in the back. “Pretty much since we got called up to the main roster,” he answers truthfully.

Seth legitimately spits out some of his coffee. “I’m sorry _what_?”

“See? You never even noticed. It’s not gonna be a thing,” Dean insists.

“It’s a thing! This is a thing! The whole time-?” Seth raises his voice, and then, glancing around the cafe, goes hushed, but no less intense. “You just never thought to mention it? Oh my God, Dean, we were together all the time. We shared hotel rooms! Were you, like, hooking up while I was asleep? That's messed up, man.”

“Hey, first of all, you were gone a lot. Second, why the fuck are you getting so pressed?” This is not exactly how Dean thought this conversation would go. He just wanted to clear the air, make sure they were cool. He feels stupid for initiating it. Seth has never in his life been cool about anything.

What Seth should say is, ‘I spent over a year telling myself there was nothing between us because you acted the same way with Roman, and we were supposed to be brothers, but now I find out my brothers _were_ something, and I was the oblivious mark, and that fucking sucks.’

What he does instead is glower and shrug. “Whatever, man,” he grumbles. “Guess it's none of my business.”

“That's not what I - you know what? Forget it. I’m out of here.” Dean stands and fumbles with his wallet, tossing a couple bills on the table. “I’ll get an Uber.”

There's a roar perched at the back of Seth’s throat, anger seething out between gritted teeth, but he digs his fingers into his thigh until he can swallow it back down. He orders another coffee, and doesn't even think about chasing after Dean.

-

Naturally, they both pretend that conversation never happened.

But Seth knows. And he knows they know he knows. And maybe the worst thing is that they're not any more or less discreet about their sneaking around, because that means it doesn't matter - _he_ doesn't matter, and that - well that's just unacceptable.

Seth has a habit of getting hyper-fixated. Sometimes it's to his benefit: see his career and his body. This, though, it’s just distracting. He can’t stop thinking about them. When he closes his eyes in the shower, he’s suddenly imagining Dean riding Roman, probably going for it like he’s trying to win a race, and then he's just gotta slip a hand down and jack himself off. He’s in bed and out of nowhere he’ll find himself wondering if Roman lets Dean fuck him. He decides Roman probably does, probably face to face, all lazy and blissed out while Dean works him over. Of course it shouldn’t, but it bothers Seth that he doesn’t know how accurate a picture his brain is drawing for him. It drives him crazy him that he'd never noticed it, the two of them screwing around right under his nose, and that even now he can't quite wrap his head around it.

In his defense, anyone would probably be rattled to find out their two best friends had been secretly boning, because there’d been rumors and jokes and fanfiction, but they’d always laughed it all off as ridiculous. Or at least Seth thought that’s what they’d been doing, and maybe in the back of his mind he’d always believed that if there was going to be something to it, it would be him and Dean. True, after a rocky start, it was Dean and Roman who had ended up getting along best out of the three of them. Seth couldn't just sit and chill and crack open some cold ones like them, totally at ease with stretches of silence. No, he always had to be on go, had to be working, had to be winning. There was also the whole betrayal episode, but nonetheless, Seth had a special connection with Dean and that - that was indisputable; that _wasn't_ just in his head.

-

_Table for 3_ is the next time they’re all actually sitting down and hanging out. Seth’s been avoiding this situation actually. He’s fine with either of them one-on-one, but ducks out if the other shows up.

Seth, as a rule, doesn’t really drink. He doesn't need the empty calories. He is known to enjoy his craft beers, and he takes the time to fully appreciate them. Discipline means only indulging in moderation, and Seth freaking Rollins has discipline for days. But here he is, looking at the two of them, at the way Roman looks at Dean, hanging on every halting, stumbling word that comes out of Dean’s mouth, and Seth ends up drinking more than usual. Not just at dinner either, because he lets them convince him to go out after - “like old times,” Dean had said, and when he flashed his dimples Seth was a goner.

But he keeps remembering that the old days weren't actually what he thought, and _that_ thought makes Seth drink _more._

They end up in a divey bar a couple blocks from their hotel. Roman’s talking about football. Dean’s a little ways away, leaning over the jukebox as he punches in songs, not like, pornigraphically bending over, but enough that his ass is drawing Seth’s eyes like a magnet. Between that and being drunk, something short circuits in his brain and, like an idiot, the question he’s been guiltily ruminating on pops out of his mouth. “Who tops?”

It interrupts whatever Roman’s saying about the 49ers. “What?” Roman asks, staring at him blankly.

“You ‘n Dean. Who’s on top?” The same sick feeling he got when he first saw them kissing grips him, and his face heats up.

“Oh hell no,” Roman says. “Ambrose, come get your boy,” he calls.

Dean ambles back over. “What’d he do?”

“He’s being a dumbass.” Roman’s smile is all for Dean, and it's so fond, and Seth wants to punch it off Roman’s stupid, handsome face.

“I'm not being a - a dumbass!” he protests.“I'm just trying to understand!”

“Naw, man, you ain't gonna twist it like that, “ Roman says, still calm and collected.

“What?” Dean asks again, looking between them.

“Nothing!” Seth snaps, attempting to stand and immediately almost falling over. Dean catches him with a grunt. “Fuck off,” Seth snarls, and shoves him away. Dean’s eyebrows are as high as they'll go up his forehead.

Then, after a moment, Dean just shrugs and says, “Okay, Rollins, I think it's time to pack it in.”

“Go out the back. I'll close out. Cool?” Roman says, taking charge, which is just so him.

“Yeah, I got him,” Dean answers. Seth glowers at being talked about like he's not right there, but he can't deny that it's a relief to get away from his embarrassment with Roman, and that Dean escorting him to his hotel room is a big help.

They’re silent for the short walk and they’ve both got caps tugged low on their faces, and thankfully no one approaches them. It takes quite a bit of fumbling for Seth to find his card key. Dean’s propping him up, solid and unspeaking, but he’s Dean, so he’s not still, and his fidgeting is making it even harder to swipe the card. 

Seth just means to turn toward Dean, but he miscalculates and ends up slurring, “I’m never getting drunk again,” right into Dean’s ear, practically nuzzling the side of his face. Dean makes a low, noncommittal sound, and then his hand is on Seth’s, flipping the keycard the right way around and finally getting the door unlocked.

He goes straight for the bed, and it's only after he's collapsed onto it that he realizes Dean’s followed him in. Seth rolls over onto his back - gingerly, so as not to upset his stomach, and watches curious and a bit disbelieving as Dean plops down on the end of the bed and proceeds to pull Seth’s shoes and socks off for him.

“Sorry,” Seth offers, suddenly feeling a lot less drunk.

“No, _I'm_ sorry. I forgot you were such a little bitch with booze,” Dean ribs good-naturedly.

Seth sits up to half-heartedly punch Dean in the arm. And then, because he hasn't made a big enough fool of himself, he lurches forward and presses his mouth to Dean’s. Suddenly, finally, they're kissing. It’s nothing spectacular besides being something he never thought would happen. The important thing is that Dean kisses him back, even if just for a moment, his tongue laps against Seth’s, and he's all soft and wet and open to it.

Then Dean pulls away and _laughs._ “Oh my God,” Dean chokes, eyes widening in surprise, “You’re acting like such an asshole because you’re jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Seth denies automatically. Dean shoots him a scornful glance. Seth looks down to where his hand has settled on Dean’s thigh. Dean’s relaxed under his touch, so Seth doesn’t move it. “But why didn't we ever?” he asks, trailing off.

Dean hums softly as he appears to be giving it some thought. “I didn’t want to mess with what we had in the ring, you know,” he says. “And you’re kind of a dick,” he tacks on, flashing a teasing smile.

Seth laughs. He can’t argue that. The response restores his confidence, and he slides his fingers higher up Dean’s leg, his thumb fitting into the crease of Dean’s pelvis. “But you thought about it?” he says, barely making it a question. Dean’s answering shrug turns into a little shimmy, and he looks away. “You've totally thought about it,” Seth smarms.

Dean shakes his head, but it’s clearly at Seth’s behavior and not a denial. Seth leans in almost close enough to kiss Dean again, watching intently as Dean licks his lips and swallows. Then, Seth falls back onto the mattress and folds his arms behind his head “So?” he says conversationally. “Who fucks who? You guys switch, or what?”

“Is that what you said to piss Rome off?” Dean snorts. “Jesus, dude.”

“Come on,” Seth whines, “You gotta give me some dirt. We're partners.”

“I don’t gotta,” Dean says, but he scoots up the bed until he’s half reclining next to Seth, resting back on his elbows. Seth starts nudging Dean’s leg with his knee until Dean finally gives in. “We don’t-we just, like, jerk each other off, or blow each other, you know, like, it’s whatever, man.” The words all jostle together, clunky like Dean never is on the mic. “I don’t know why I’m fucking telling you anything,” Dean scowls when he sees Seth grinning triumphantly.

“You know what, Deano? I think you're trying to make me jealous,” Seth says, this time leaving his knee pressed against Dean.

“I wasn't trying,” Dean rumbles, throwing him a side glance. “But I kinda like it,” he smirks.

“You asshole,” Seth says lightly. They look at each other for a long moment. Dean’s face is ruddy, his eyes a little unfocused. Neither of them makes a move.

“Whatever, Rollins. Go to sleep.” Dean starts to get up, but Seth grabs his wrist and then pulls Dean’s hand to his fly. “Can’t sleep in these,” he says, giving Dean his most suggestive smile.

“Don’t know how you wear them at all,” Dean snarks. Seth mostly expects to get brushed off, but Dean undoes his pants and pulls the zipper down, helping to get Seth’s skinny jeans off when Seth lifts his hips. Thankfully, he's wearing a pair of plain red boxer briefs and not any of his embarrassing video game related underwear. Seth strips his shirt off and basks in the way Dean’s looking at him. He knows what he’s got; Dean has trouble bulking, and Roman’s always had some stubborn softness he couldn’t lose, but Seth is Crossfit Jesus himself.

He and Dean have had plenty of physical contact over the years, but never like this, nothing so slow and deliberate as the way Dean reaches out to trace the lines of his abs. Seth forces himself to keep breathing normally, even as his dick stiffens and Dean’s fingers inch closer to the waistband of his underwear.

“Fuck, Rollins, I…” Dean rasps. His gaze is glassy and his breath harsh. He looks more wrecked than Seth feels, and he's still fully dressed, which - Seth doesn’t really need the ego boost, but he’ll still take it. When it doesn't seem like Dean's going to finish that thought, Seth pulls Dean in by the back of his neck to get at his mouth, biting at his lower lip before kissing him deeply. Dean's nails dig into his stomach briefly and then his hand is sliding over Seth’s ribs and around to clutch at his back.

When Seth tries to throw his leg over Dean’s hip to roll on top, Dean jerks like he's been startled awake, and pulls away. His eyes meander down Seth’s body, and settle back on his crotch, a smug look on his face, like he wasn’t just about dry humping Seth less than a minute ago. It's like watching a mask fall into place the way Dean closes off - the hunger is still there, but there's nothing vulnerable about it anymore; it's predatory, _calculating._

Dean rolls out of bed. “I'll get back to you on that,” he says, making a finger gun with his right hand and aiming it at the general vicinity of Seth’s erection. Then he gives a lazy salute before he saunters out like nothing happened, leaving Seth confused and more than a little annoyed. _Ambrose_ , he thinks with a familiar mixture of exasperation and fondness, mentally rolling his eyes, _Fuckin’ Ambrose._

-

Roman lifts his head and makes a bleary, sleep-thick noise when Dean slips into bed behind him. Roman always lets him be the big spoon, not that either of them would think of it a _spooning_ or _cuddling_ , because it’s not - that’s not what it is - it’s just not a big deal sharing a bed - since Dean has trouble falling asleep, and staying asleep - really anything to do with sleep, and it’s even worse if he feels at all confined, or anxious about waking another person up. After a certain point his offers to get his own room or crash out on the floor started being met with a firm, “Don't be stupid,” so it just settled this way between them.

“Hey,” he says, nosing at the sharp line of Roman’s jaw. “Hey. Hey,” he keeps on until Roman groans and reaches back to shove a hand in his face. Dean grins and bites as best he can at Roman’s palm.

“What do you want?” Roman growls, but he runs his hand around to cup the back of Dean’s head, rubbing at his hair in the way that makes Dean buzz with pleasure. 

Dean licks at Roman’s ear to show his appreciation (which Roman makes clear with a disgusted ‘ugh’ that he does _not_ appreciate), and then, low and dripping with dirty promise says, “So, you know how, like, we were talking about a reunion?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which The Shield does not quite have a threesome (yet).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well this got and took longer than expected.

Probably Seth should have been suspicious that the both of them wanted to tag along to the crossfit gym, but Seth had mentioned that the owner was letting him have the place all to himself, and he just figured Roman and Dean wanted to work out without being interrupted.

They all split off to do their own thing. Roman and Dean are, of course, heathens when it comes to crossfit, so Seth tries not to pay attention to them once he starts in on his intervals. 

He gets through half of his sets before he gets distracted by the heavy clang of weights being let down too fast. He takes out his ear buds and wipes some of the sweat off his face and looks up to see Roman sitting at a weight machine with his legs sprawled wide, and Dean standing over him with one arm braced on the machine. Dean’s light gray tank highlights the dark patches of sweat under his arms and all down his back, and somehow the sight of it has Seth swallowing thickly.

It’s been over a week, and Dean hasn't made any overt attempts to pick up where they left off that night. Seth’s too proud to bring it up, but he can feel it hanging heavy between them. He watches Roman place a hand right above Dean's hip, pushing his shirt up just a little, just a small slice of skin exposed, but it’s like being doused in ice water, feeling like he’s being toyed with, remembering how they’d made a complete fool out of him.

“Hey,” Seth says, sharper than he intends. They both look over, Roman with an indolent lack of concern, and Dean with an amused, challenging smirk.

“You got a problem?” Deans turns and prowls towards him. Seth doesn’t know if he wants to hit him or kiss him, but he’s stopped from doing either when Roman stands and gets between them.

“Come on,” Roman says, smacking Dean in the arm lightly with the back of his hand and jerking his head in the direction of the locker room. “You get your shit together,” he says, directed to Seth, which Seth thinks is totally unfair.

Dean eyes him for a moment, then leans over Roman’s shoulder and says, “We’ll be fooling around in the showers if you get the fuck over yourself,” with a raspy chuckle.

“Dude!” Roman chides, shoving Dean slightly, then pressing a hand between his shoulder blades to steer him away.

“What? Rollins wants to be kept apprised,” Dean drawls, but he goes easily where Roman directs him, although not before lasciviously sticking his tongue out and then dragging it slowly back through his teeth. 

Dean's just trying to get under his skin, Seth tells himself, and he doesn’t want to give Dean the victory of knowing he succeeded. He doesn't want to, but when he tries to get back into his workout, his focus is shot. Giving up, he stomps towards the showers, intent on giving Dean a piece of his mind, only to be struck dumb by the sight of Roman leaning against a locker - they hadn’t even made it to the shower, apparently, and Dean on his knees in front of him. They hadn’t made it all the way undressed either - Dean now missing his shirt, and Roman with his shorts shoved down just enough.

They’re in profile to Seth, so they don't see him right away, but he still gets barely a moment to wonder what he should do before Roman turns his head and catches his eye.

“He warned you,” Roman says through heavy breaths.

“I didn't think you were serious,” Seth says, but it sounds weak even to him.

Dean and Roman share a look, but Dean doesn't stop what he's doing. His hands are curled around the backs of Roman’s thighs, and he’s so - Seth couldn’t even say how big Roman is because Dean’s still deep throating him. Roman’s got one hand in Dean’s hair, but he’s not using it keep Dean down; it’s just Dean determinedly choking himself on Roman’s dick until his face is red and his Adam’s apple is jumping, and then he pulls away with a loud gasp.

Roman’s been quiet aside from some panting, but he makes a pleading noise at that, his free hand curling around Dean’s shoulder. Dean chuckles, tongue out to tease the head of Roman’s cock. He squeezes Roman’s legs, looks up, and says, “Is Rollins jerking off yet?”

Seth bites back a groan. Dean could just check for himself, but it’s like he can’t tear his attention away from Roman’s cock, and fuck that’s hot. Roman glances at him and Seth realizes he's unconsciously started rubbing himself over his shorts.

Roman looks back at Dean, a slight smile now on his face. “Yeah, little bit.”

“Good,” Dean says, and then swallows Roman's dick back down.

Seth tends to be a talker. It's on the tip of his tongue to start telling Dean how good he's doing, how perfect he looks with a cock down his throat, and how amazing his mouth must feel, but he’s not sure how it’d be received, so he keeps his thoughts to himself as he continues slowly teasing himself through his clothes.

There’s nothing slow about Dean though. He’s bobbing his head with a ferocity that Seth knows would have him blowing his load embarrassingly fast.

Thankfully for his ego, it doesn’t take too long before one of Roman's hands is back in Dean’s hair, the other now fisting the base of his cock. “I’m close, babe, please,” Roman grits out. His control has slipped enough that he’s making tight little jerks of Dean’s head, dragging his lips over and around the crown of his dick while Roman strokes the rest of his length, the slick, slapping sound almost obscenely loud.

And Seth, god, Seth wonders, hopes, maybe, that Roman’s going to come on Dean’s face, but Roman says breathlessly, “Open,” and Dean’s tongue is immediately out. Seth moves closer to get a better view, close enough that he could touch either of them, though all he does is watch as Roman shudders, his glutes clenching with the force of it as he shoots cum into Dean’s waiting mouth. Seth has to give himself a hard squeeze to keep from coming along with him, and then another when Dean finally looks at him, making sure he has Seth’s attention as he swallows noisily.

Roman laughs lightly and slides down the wall to sit on the floor. He stretches his legs out and rolls his head back, the flushed and satisfied expression of a man who’s just had an immensely satisfying orgasm clear on his face.

Dean’s eyes go narrowed and knowing. His gaze flicks to Seth’s crotch and then back up, and he licks his lips. “Come on,” he says, “take it out, brotha.”

Seth’s stomach lurches. He can't help that he glances at Roman - not for permission exactly, but more for confirmation that this is actually happening, and that Dean's not just mocking him. There's no reassurance to be had though, since Roman's still dreamily unfocused - a testament to Dean's skill, Seth supposes.

“You first,” he hedges.

“Yeah?” Dean smirks, tucking both of him thumbs beneath the waistband of his basketball shorts, and shimmying his hips to work them down his thighs. Roman snorts and runs an affectionate hand down Dean’s spine. 

And of course Seth is going to look, and of course Seth is going to compare. Dean’s cock is such a reddish pink compared to Seth’s, and what he saw of Roman's, both of them with more olive skin tones. Seth keeps his pubic hair pretty neatly trimmed, and it looked like Roman did as well, or maybe it just grows in fairly sparse and straight - Roman's never seemed to have much body hair. Dean's pubes, on the other hand, are curly and thick, the same ginger shade as his chest hair, and it makes his dick look kind of short. It's...cute, Seth decides, a little surprised at himself. 

With that last thought nipping at him, Seth has to look away, focusing instead on himself as he pulls his dick out with slightly shaky hands.

“Nice,” Dean breathes, earning another huff of laughter from Roman.

Seth isn’t able to keep his gaze off Dean for long. He just has to watch as Dean starts fucking his own fist, and he finds himself mimicking the movements, his own strokes easily falling in sync with Dean’s. And then there’s Roman, scooting forward to wrap an arm around Dean’s waist and press his cheek to Dean’s, both of them with their eyes fixed with heated interest on the show Seth’s giving them. The feeling of standing over both of them is such a powerful rush, like electricity crackling all through his nerves.

“Come here, come here,” Dean says urgently, grabbing at Seth’s hip. “Come on me, come on,” he orders, as if he'd read Seth's mind earlier. He pushes Seth's arm away so he can wrap a hand around Seth’s erection, and lifts his chin high so Seth’s cock is just about brushing the base of his throat. His grip is tight and confident as he strokes Seth. “Come on,” he keeps chanting, with an intensity that makes Seth shiver, slightly put off, but a lot turned on.

A choked, “Ah,” escapes Seth as he spills, streaking cum across Dean’s chest, and then a weaker spurt that trails straight down between his pecs. “Oh fuck,” Seth gasps. He’s dimly aware that Dean is coming too, Roman having slipped a hand down at some point, but he’s more interested in the fact that Dean swirls two fingers through the wetness around his right nipple, and then pops them in his mouth, tasting Seth's semen.

“Such a cumslut,” Seth murmurs without really thinking, stroking Dean’s hair. Dean glares at him for a brief, searching moment, but relaxes into a smug smile, apparently accepting that it's not meant as an insult. And it's really not - there's nothing but dopey appreciation behind it.

He gives Dean a hand up when Dean gestures. “The fuck was I thinking? My fucking knees, shit,” Dean grumbles as he rises. Seth almost falls over when when he helps pull Roman up next. Roman keeps ahold of his hand, and tugs him in for a quick bro hug, which is...fine - nice even, maybe.

“Guess I’m gonna grab that shower,” Dean says, sounding completely normal, as if his chest isn't dripping with Seth's cum. He starts to head that way, and then stops to strip off his shorts. His ass is...well he's got a great ass, but Seth already knew that.

“You coming?” he asks impatiently. Seth assumes he's talking to Roman, but when Dean peers over his shoulder, he glances between the both of them with equal expectation.

Roman sweeps his arm out in a you first gesture, his expression inscrutable. Seth shrugs and heads after Dean. He could really go for a shower too.

-

“You talked to Ambrose lately?” Seth asks.

Dean's been gone about a month, and Seth's not really sure what makes him think of it just then, besides that he and Roman are lounging in a dressing room, and neither one of them have spoken in a solid 30 minutes, and Dean’s absence is this spectre constantly looming between them.

Seth checked in on him after the surgery, of course, but what with his schedule and Dean never being that great at communication, it’s been mostly radio silence since. 

Whatever had been happening between the three of them just stalled after that one encounter. There hadn't really been much opportunity for anything else before Dean left. Seth has been spending more time with Roman lately, which is great, but it's like Dean took all the sexual tension with him, and Seth has no idea where Roman's at on that front.

“You know how shitty he is at responding to texts,” Roman says without looking up from where he's sprawled on a sofa, doing something on his phone.

“Yeah, I know, but I thought maybe-” Seth lets the sentence hang unfinished.

“That because we suck each other’s dicks he’d learn how use his fucking phone?”

“Yeah, that,” Seth says dryly.

Roman laughs. “Unfortunately not.” He doesn't sound too bothered, but Seth knows him better than that, knows how much he worries about Dean, and how much he misses him. They both miss him, though Seth is better at distracting himself by going even harder at work and training. Roman tends to get a little broody.

Luckily, Seth has also gotten decent at getting Roman out of his own head over the years. He plops himself down next to Roman and, tapping Roman's thigh lightly says, “So, you know, I never got the full story. How did you two start hooking up?”

Roman looks off to the side, sort of wistful, like maybe he could will Dean into materializing. “Man, I don’t even know. It’s been so long. It just...happened,” Roman says.

Seth rolls his eyes and slides closer. “I know there’s more of a story than that.”

“It was just some night when we were drinking at the hotel,” Roman starts after a few beats and a long sigh. “You’d gotten a room with your ex. Dean started talking about how he wasn't in the mood to go pick up chicks, and I was ribbing him a little, like something must really be wrong, cause he was such a horn dog. This fucker looks me right in the eyes and just goes, ‘Sometimes I’d rather get some dick.’” Roman shakes his head like he still can't believe it. “And I just, I mean, he's so - what am I supposed to say to that, you know?”

“What did you say?” Seth prompts.

“I said some dumbass thing, like, ‘You do what you gotta do, man.’”

Seth snorts, and Roman throws him a self-deprecating smile before continuing. “And then Deano goes, ‘So you gonna volunteer yours, or do I gotta go find another one?’”

“Shameless,” Seth cackles.

“And I'd never - with a guy, I mean, but you know how it was back then - we were together all the time. We did everything together, and I was kinda drunk, and it didn't seem like a big leap.”

“That’s so…I guess that's pretty much how I'd expect it to go,” Seth says. He can so easily imagine it having been him in that situation - can see a younger Dean leering at him, and how, just like Roman, he would've given in pretty easily.

“So what did you two do?” Seth asks, slightly hesitant, but only slightly, because Seth’s good at reading Roman, and Roman's enjoying getting to talk about this, something he's probably never had the chance to do before. “That first time?”

“Aw man, you really asking me that?” Roman says, ducking his head. “He...he went down on me. It's, well you saw him. It was the best goddamn blow job of my life. At some point he grabbed my wrist and...and put my hand on his head - kept pulling off to say shit like, ‘You can do better than that, Reigns. Don't be a pussy,’ and I'll admit I got a little heated - ended up really getting in there, you know?”

Roman's face is flushed. He bites his lip and looks at Seth, and there’s that heaviness, that possibility, and Seth wants to laugh, because Dean might not be there, but he's still right in the middle.

“You getting a little excited remembering it, big dog?” Seth smirks.

“As much as you are hearing about it,” Roman shoots back.

“Yeah,” Seth admits easily. Roman looks a little unsure, so Seth takes the lead, leaning over cup the side of Roman's face and press his mouth to Roman's. His touch slides down so he's gripping Roman's chin, and Roman groans into the kiss.

Seth kneels up to straddle Roman's lap. “Tell me more,” he orders in between wet, open-mouthed kisses to Roman's neck.

“Like - like what?” Roman says, sounding a little distracted.

Seth snorts. “Like about your tax returns.”

“Jerk,” Roman rumbles, knocking their heads together playfully. “You know I'm not the best talker.”

“Nah, you're doing great, champ.” Seth rolls his hips to let Roman feel how hard he is. “So tell me about fucking Dean’s throat,” he murmurs in Roman’s ear, his voice gravel rough.

“He loves sucking dick - loves it, man,” Roman says in a breathy rush. “I feel guilty sometimes that, like, I don't do it as much, but I swear, man, it's like a drug or something to him. My jaw would give out tryin’ to keep up. I'll come and he'll just keep going, real easy until I get hard again. Or I don't even always get off. He just, like, puts my cock in his mouth and keeps it there until he decides he's done, like - like it's a pacifier or some shit. Fuck, is that fucked up?”

“In a hot way,” Seth assures him, because, damn, Dean Ambrose: cock addict was the kind of thing you jerked it to without actually believing could be real.

“God, he’s gonna kill me for telling you all this,” Roman groans, his head thudding back. Seth chuckles and shifts so he can get his hand on Roman’s dick. “Shit,” Roman grunts, automatically trying to spread his legs wider and push into Seth’s grip. Seth can feel that he’s not wearing anything underneath his pants, and his sweats are loose enough that Seth can use the fabric to stroke Roman’s cock. He twists his wrist and tightens his fingers so he can feel the flared head of Roman’s dick through the cloth, as well as a damp spot of pre-come. Roman’s mouth falls slightly open and both his hands come up to clutch at Seth’s hips.

“Keep talking, or I’ll stop,” Seth says with a smile that is possibly slightly evil.

Roman licks his lips. His eyes are blown and foggy with arousal. “I fuck his thighs sometimes,” he says hoarsely, “Never would have thought of it, but fuck it’s hot. He’s got those fucking thick thighs, can squeeze as tight as anything.” 

It makes Seth remember something Dean mentioned. “Ambrose said you guys don't fuck. Is that true?”

Irritation cuts a little through the warm pleasure on Roman’s face, which, if it's at Dean spilling their business, Seth thinks that's a bit hypocritical at this point. “We don't do anal,” he says stiffly. “If that's what you mean.” 

It threatens to totally kill the mood, but still, Seth is too fascinated not to push. “Really? You never?”

And Roman could explain that it’s not really his thing, could lay out that while he loves ass play of all kinds, he’s never really gotten the big deal with anal - it’s extra work, and could get dirty in a bad way, and he’s had a couple partners insist who had then ended up being uncomfortable or finding it painful. 

They don’t, however, have that conversation. Roman just shakes his head and uses his hold on Seth’s hips to urge him to grind on his lap.

“Fuck, you think he’s ever done that with anyone? I'd love to get in that ass,” Seth says, because he’s mostly thinking with his dick at this point, and his dick doesn’t want to let the subject go.

Something about that thought makes Roman’s jaw clench with a surge of possessiveness, but he shoves it back down, because he and Dean don’t have that kind of claim on each other, and also he still wants to get off. He grabs the back of Seth’s thigh and pulls him in closer to where he can feel the firm bulge of Seth’s cock right against his. “I’d like to see him sucking you off,” he offers as an alternative.

“Yeah?” Seth murmurs, rutting into the space Roman made for him. “Shit, we could trade off - time him, every couple minutes swap places, see who comes first. What do you think about that idea, big dog?”

“I think you're gonna make me come in my fucking pants,” Roman laughs softly. The sweet friction and pressure and the pictures Seth is drawing for him all clenching tight in his belly, his pelvis, coiled and ready to explode.

Seth shrugs and does one of his snorting giggles. “We both gotta change into our gear anyway,” he points out.

“True,” Roman says, then grins. “True that.” He angles his face so Seth will kiss him again, and gets one hand between their bodies. He can't properly get his hand around both of their erections, not with their clothes in the way, but he finds he likes the clumsy grip that results.

Seth's brand of dirty talk is fairly outside Roman’s wheelhouse, and he's a little ashamed of how much it turns him on - the idea of using Dean like - like a toy, like he's not their brother and best friend, but there's no denying that when Roman comes it's with a clear image in his head of them sharing Dean’s mouth - of Seth dragging Dean off his cock by his hair, and Dean gasping for breath and getting no chance to swallow or wipe the drool off his chin before Seth's pushing in.

Seth jerks against him, biting down on Roman's lower lip as he comes as well. Then he rests his forehead against Roman's, and Roman idly pets his hip as their breathing returns to normal, and the pleasant glow fades into awareness of the sticky mess. Seth gets up and stretches, first his spine and then lifting each leg behind himself in turn to grab his ankle and work his quads.

“I don't - you know it's not like I think he's a whore, or I'm just using him for sex or anything,” Roman says, seemingly out of the blue.

Seth laughs sharply in disbelief that Roman would even think he has to offer that disclaimer. “Yeah, I'm aware of the distinction between fantasy and reality.”

Roman looks abashed as he gets up and goes to his bag and starts rifling through his clothes, and Seth feels a little prick of doubt. Does Roman really not know how much having him and Dean back means to him? Maybe he does think Seth would treat Dean like he was just some ring rat. Maybe he does think he’d been using Dean - for titles, or to assuage his own guilt. Maybe Seth had been so wrapped up in getting Dean that he'd taken Roman's forgiveness for granted.

“Hey, man,” Seth starts awkwardly. “We never really talked about it, but you know I'm sorry, right?”

Roman pauses and stares down at his hands for a moment before turning and meeting Seth's eyes. “You got nothing to apologize to me for.”

“No, come on,” Seth protests. “You deserve to hear it.”

“I can't believe you're making me have this conversation right after we were just dry humping,” Roman says with a scoffing laugh. “Look, I think that doing whatever it takes is so deep in your bones that, yeah, you'll stab some backs and cut some throats, and I get it, man. I respect that, and that's why you and me - we’re golden. You couldn’t ever hurt me like you hurt Dean, but I don't forget, bro. You ever hurt him like that again, and I’m coming for you.”

There’s a sharp, defensive part of Seth that wants to spit back something about Roman being such a white knight for poor, defenseless Ambrose, but he’s better than that - trying to be better than that, so he just says, “I won’t,” hoping Roman can feel the weight of how much he believes it.

Roman nods and turns back to his gear. They continue changing in silence. When Jason comes knocking looking for him, it’s got to be the first time Seth’s ever been happy to see the kid.

-

It’s Roman’s idea to visit Dean before Elimination Chamber. Seth books the flights so they can meet up at the airport in Las Vegas, but he leaves it to Roman to figure out the rest, since he still hasn’t heard anything from Dean (not that he’s bitter). Roman gets the rental car and drives since he’s been there before (not that Seth’s still bitter about that either).

“He's expecting us, right?” Seth suddenly thinks to ask.

Roman snorts. “Yeah. I didn't ask, cause I knew he'd probably just never reply, but I told him we were coming.”

“What'd he say to that?”

“Just the letter K.”

Seth laughs and shakes his head. To be honest, he’s still a little convinced Dean won’t answer the door when they get there, but almost as soon as Roman rings the bell, there he is - squinting at them through the glare of the desert sun and waving them inside with antsily twitching fingers.

The shock of Deans appearance makes it feel like it’s been a lot longer than two months. He’s even leaner than Seth remembers, his arm is in a sling, and his hair is buzzed.

“Oh no,” Roman says, “Not the bang!” He goes to touch Dean’s shorn head, and Dean growls and dodges. Though Roman covers it pretty quickly, Seth still sees the hurt that flashes across his face.

Dean leads them to the kitchen, evading any question either of them attempt to make about his injury, even if he does seem excited to show off his scar.

“Going crazy,” He mutters, finally, when Seth asks him how things are going in general, “Can't bike, can barely work out, can't drink with all the antibiotics. I can tell you all what's going on on _The Bachelor,_ though.” He makes a disgusted noise, avoiding their gazes as he gets them both waters.

Roman hasn’t looked away from Dean since they arrived, and he’s got some sad puppy dog eyes going that Seth can't stand seeing. If he could just shove Dean into Roman's arms he would. He's not sure exactly what to do, though, to ease the awkwardness.

It’s Dean who breaks the ice with characteristic bluntness. “Well, we doing this?” he asks with a slight sneer.

“What?” Seth says after a moment of dead silence.

“It's why you're here, right? Convenient stop to get your dicks wet?” Dean says, challenging, like he's spoiling for a fight.

“Uce,” Roman says, a plaintive note in his voice. Dean hangs his head like a chastized dog, and with one large step Roman’s there and enveloping Dean in a bear hug. Seth watches Dean’s whole body stiffen even as he buries his face in Roman's neck and clutches at the back of his shirt with his left hand.

“We just wanted to see you, you idiot,” Roman huffs, rubbing his cheek all over the top of Dean's head and the side of his face like a big cat.

Seth makes a concurring noise and moves in so he can slide his arms around Dean's waist from behind. And Dean's just so, so tense between them, until he lets it all go with a long exhale. “Saps,” he mutters. 

Seth pokes him hard in the side, making Dean jump, but with him and Roman holding him, Dean is pretty contained. Roman puts his hand over the spot Seth had just jabbed and presses his forehead to Dean’s. “We can just chill. Whatever you want, man,” Roman murmurs, painfully earnest.

And of course Seth agrees wholeheartedly, but also now he can't help thinking about how Dean's down one arm and quite a few pounds, and how easily he and Roman could manhandle him into any position they wanted. His hips are already snug to Dean's ass, and if he happens to grind against Dean slightly it's not with any conscious intent to influence Dean's answer.

Dean lets go of Roman and reaches back to grab at the meat of Seth's thigh and squeeze, urging him into another thrust. At the same time, he tilts his head and brushes a soft kiss at the corner of Roman’s mouth. “Well? We doing this?” he says again, but this time there's an impish grin dimpling his face.

Seth looks at Roman over Dean's shoulder and quirks his eyebrows, leaving it to him. “Yeah,” Roman says after a thick swallow. “Yeah, let’s do this.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hold up - Imma be real with y’all, I’ve never really had a threesome."

In the bedroom, Dean angles away from them when he slips the sling off, seemingly self-conscious of the lost muscle mass, which tugs at Roman's heart strings. It's Seth who steps forward to help him undress, though, keeping his movements businesslike, because he knows Dean would reject anything that felt like pity.

“Hold up - Imma be real with y’all, I’ve never really had a threesome,” Roman says as he toys with the button of his jeans.

Dean looks at Seth, the question obvious on his face.

“Only with two girls,” Seth tells him.

Dean whistles. “Knew you were a stud, Rollins.”

“Well what about you?” Seth says, pushing Dean lightly in the chest.

Dean hums like he's thinking it over. “Technically no, there were four people.”

“So does that make me the expert? Or you?” Seth chuckles. He bends and gives a quick, affectionate kiss to Dean's shoulder and then moves back to strip his own clothes off.

“I think it means we're all going to be winging it,” Dean says wryly. He lifts an arm to beckon Roman closer. “Come on, big dog, you're falling behind.” 

Roman settles his hands on Dean's waist, and takes a moment to look him up and down, just enjoying seeing Dean naked again. Dean, though, starts to fidget under the focused attention, so Roman lets go and quickly undresses, keeping them all on even footing. 

Without the slightest hint of modesty, Seth sprawls out on the bed and spreads his legs. “Well?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow. “Hop to it, been waiting to try out your mouth for months now.”

“You lazy fucking bastard,” Dean says with a slight smile.

“Uh huh,” Seth agrees, again without an ounce of shame.

Dean kneels on the bed, shuffling up between Seth's outstretched legs, hunching over to keep his bad arm tucked against his stomach, and bracing his other hand next to Seth's hip. Seth makes an appreciative noise at the sight and wraps his hand around the base of his cock, holding it upright for Dean.

“You okay like that, babe?” Roman asks, sounding skeptical.

“‘M fine,” Dean says, muffled as he starts licking along the shaft of Seth's cock.

Roman can't stop himself from fussing -  
“You sure? Might be easier if-”

“Said it was fine,” Dean snaps, lifting his head and turning to glare at Roman.

“Yeah, I heard you,” Roman throws back, “And I also know how long your stubborn ass was fighting injured.”

Considering there's a blowjob on the line, Seth is not about to let an argument break out. “Okay,” he cuts in. “Come on, sit up,” he says to Dean, running through the possible logistics. He shifts slightly onto his left hip and draws his knee out to the side, then motions for Dean to come back down, guiding Dean to rest his right shoulder on his thigh, and letting Dean settle so his upper arm is supported by Seth’s leg. It makes Seth feel almost nostalgic; it's been so long since he had to play peacemaker between the two of them, not since those early, heady days of the Shield. 

Dean wraps his left arm under Seth's thigh to give himself an anchor. It puts him so much closer to Seth than before, close enough that Seth can feel his breath, warm and slightly tickling on his skin. His mouth’s just right there - and then it's on him, without any of the earlier teasing, easily taking the full length of Seth's cock.

Roman sits down next to Dean, idly stroking his lower back and ass, but mostly just enjoying the sight of Dean applying his skills. Seth's already huffing for breath, abs pulling in like he's doing crunches as his hips roll with the up and down glide of Dean's mouth.

“Goddamn,” Roman sighs, “You're so good, Dean. So good.” Under his palm he can feel the preening, cat-like way Dean arches his spine at the praise, and a rush of affection and arousal hits Roman so hard it's dizzying. He cups an ass cheek in his hand and gives it a light squeeze. “Hitch up,” Roman says. Dean makes a questioning noise, his mouth still full. Instead of answering, Roman lies on his back and eases himself under Dean, trying not to jostle him too much as he lifts Dean's hips and then helps him get one leg over so Dean's knees are above Roman's shoulders. 

The slick sounds of Seth thrusting into Dean's mouth continue without the slightest pause. Roman puts both his hands on Dean's ass to press him forward, and, soft and low like it's a secret says, “Come here, baby. Come sit on my face. Missed you.”

Dean whines and then chokes as he tries to move up the bed, making Seth gasp when Dean's throat spasms around his cock. Seth cradles Dean's face in his hands, and between the three of them they manage to rebalance him.

Roman’s not at all surprised to find Dean hard; he really does love having his face fucked. He works his way down Dean's cock with soft, tonguing kisses, and then nuzzles at his pubes, smiling as he smells soap. For all that Dean had played cool at their visit, he'd definitely showered for them. Roman kneads at Dean's ass, pulls his buttocks apart, and reels him in closer. He can feel Dean's thighs trembling on either side of him as he flicks his tongue over Dean's hole, starting off slow as he continues to massage Dean's ass cheeks. The fluttering grazes gradually shift to a steady, shallow thrust, barely dipping past the rim in a continuous tease that has Dean, still held firm by Seth, exhaling bull-like through his nose.

Seth can’t see what Roman's doing from his vantage point, but it's not hard to figure out. “Looks like Rome's pretty good with his mouth too,” Seth smirks.

If said mouth wasn't busy, Roman would absolutely be giving him his cockiest grin. Just because he hasn't put his dick in there doesn't mean he doesn't totally own Dean's ass. Not that he'd actually say that out loud, because Dean would probably punch him.

Above him, Seth’s still going: “You gonna do him next, Deano? Let the big dog fuck your slutty mouth?”

Roman's glad Seth is the planner at the moment, both because he's having trouble thinking beyond how turned on he is, and because the man is full of good ideas.

Then Seth pants, “Fuck, I'm gonna come,” and Dean says, “Wait,” squirming away from both of their holds.

Roman cranes his head out from under Dean to look at him questioningly. Dean licks his lips, radiating the kind of self-satisfaction that screams ‘troublemaker.’ “You gonna close the circle, Rollins, or just be an asshole?” His voice is a fucked out rasp, and it makes Roman ache to be the one causing it.

“Aw, that’s so sweet,” Seth coos with obvious sarcasm.

“You don’t gotta worry about my dick, uce,” Roman says, rubbing Dean's side.

“Yeah, you’re supposed to be worrying about mine.” Seth pulls impatiently at the back of Dean’s neck since he's got no hair to grip. 

Dean rolls his eyes and jerks away again. “Come on,” Dean says, “I wanna see you try to take that monster.”

It's a weird angle, but Roman can still make eye contact with Seth, who's looking a little spooked. “Uh, you don't have to. Obviously,” Roman tells him, actually blushing at Dean's statement. “It's not a monster,” he adds as an afterthought with a light slap to Dean's ass.

Dean just laughs. “Don't sell yourself short, big guy.”

“Nah, it’s cool; the man’s got a point,” Seth says, patting the mattress next to his hip

After another minute of awkward re-situation, Roman’s laying longways with his legs towards the headboard, and Dean looks, if possible, even more pleased with himself.

Seth twists at the waist and bends to get to Roman, mindful that Dean's still mostly braced on his legs. It's been awhile since Seth last did this, and Roman, while perhaps not porn-huge, is pretty big. He's clearly not going to be up to the standards Dean has set when it comes to cock sucking, but he gives it his best.

Roman groans softly at his efforts, one hand coming down to run through Seth's hair and then curl around his ear in an affectionate pet. The other re-finds its spot on Dean's ass, fingers rubbing between his cheeks, slippery with the spit he'd left there. He doesn't press inside, just strokes over the furled little entrance as he sucks at the head of Dean's cock. He can't take it much deeper than that from his new position, his head now diagonal to Dean's crotch, but he's always gotten a kick out of teasing Dean anyway, so he's more than fine with that.

Seth only maintains his focus for a couple minutes before he pulls off Roman's dick with a pop. Roman can't really blame him, not when Dean's clearly got him right on the edge again. In fact, Roman stops to watch too.

“Where do you want it?” Seth asks, urgent and breathy. “You want to swallow? I know how much you love drinking cum.”

Dean makes a noise that is unequivocally a yes, and all but mashes his nose into Seth’s groin to try to somehow get him farther down his throat. Seth grabs the back of Dean’s head and bucks his hips once, twice, three times as Dean swallows convulsively around him. 

Though Seth has a feeling Dean would happily keep sucking, he eases Dean off his cock as he softens, too sensitive for that much stimulation. He takes hold of Dean's face with both hands again, and tilts it up towards him “Show me,” he says. Dean looks almost drunk, his eyes soft and dreamy. He opens his mouth so Seth can see there's nothing left of his load. “Good job,” Seth tells him, stroking Dean's cheeks with his thumbs, only to have Dean turn and try to catch one. Grinning, Seth lets him, sliding his right thumb between Dean's lips for him to suckle.

Then Roman moves and rolls Dean onto his back, telegraphing his movements so Dean can protect his injury and Seth can help. Dean's still between Seth's legs when Roman's finished, and Roman gingerly settles half on top of him. He runs his hand over Dean's thigh and coaxes it up over his hip, then wets his index finger in his mouth. Dean watches with rapt attention, still trying to catch his breath.

His rim is nice and softened up from all the attention when Roman slips his fingers back there, but there’s not enough of a glide past the first knuckle for Roman to feel comfortable continuing. He levers Dean's hips up and bends down, letting saliva pool on his tongue before opening his mouth for it to spill over and land right in Dean's crack.

Seth and Dean both say “Fuck,” at the same time - Seth quieter and appreciative, and Dean with a ragged groan, and Roman can't help but smile at the reaction he's gotten. Dean takes his index finger easily, and Roman gets his middle finger in as well without too much difficulty. He's taken Dean farther than that, but it's not what he's after today. He crooks them both up to find the little bump of Dean's prostate, and presses slightly in gentle, but direct stimulation.

Dean huffs, blotchy red all down his throat and chest. Roman knows he's trying to stay composed, but the thread is clearly fraying as Roman carefully but insistently keeps at it. Dean’s shoulders and hips twitch fretfully and his head tips back to such a degree that it prompts Seth to pull one of his legs up and push his calf under to support the back of Dean's neck. He leans forwards, hands settling over Dean's clavicle fingertips teasing down to Dean's nipples.

“You close?” Roman murmurs, looking up at Seth, all smugness and heat. “You gonna do it, baby? Gonna show Seth your little trick?”

Dean, his whole face screwed up, biting down hard on his lower lip, nods, but also grits out, “I hate you,” making Roman chuckle.

The only thing Seth really has to compare it to is a woman. It’s like he can see it shudder through Dean’s body to his cock when he comes, totally untouched, not shooting cum, just a small but steady stream that pools around his belly button.

Roman’s eyes fall back to Dean, hungrily taking in the sight. The first time Dean had come on his fingers like that - clenched vise-like, the surprised, faintly betrayed look on his face was enough to tell Roman that had never happened to him before, and it had felt so viciously good to know he had at least one of Dean’s firsts, since Dean had racked up quite a few of Roman's. Some of that same thrill still burns through him every time he gets Dean off like this. “I love doing that,” Roman says softly, almost reverently, fingers still working, slower now, until Dean’s half-stifled whimpers turn into a protesting wheeze.

“Damn,” Seth says, impressed.

It leaves Dean blissfully hazy and uncharacteristically pliable. Roman takes the opportunity to be selfish, and hooks an arm under Dean's knees to push his legs up, spits on his cock and then fucks between Dean’s thighs. He sets Dean’s ankles on his shoulder so he can use both hands to press Dean’s legs tighter together. “Goddamn, your fuckin’ thighs,” he pants, “Fucking love them, babe, love you.”

Dean doesn't say anything back, but he reaches his good arm up so he can stroke what he can reach of Roman's jaw and shoulder. Roman turns his head and presses his mouth to Dean's palm, moaning as he feels Dean flex, squeezing him so perfectly, spit and sweat making the glide smooth. His spine snaps straight as he comes, vision whiting out momentarily, and it's Dean's hand on his face, solid and strong, that focuses him as he comes down from the high of his orgasm.

“Fuck, that was awesome,” Dean says, muffled into Seth’s leg, before he nips at Seth’s inner thigh and then giggles at Seth's indignant squawk. 

Roman laughs quietly as he shifts off to the side to lie down, exhausted, but also bone-deep content.

Less than a minute later Seth complains that his leg is falling asleep, so they shuffle around. Dean grabs a remote off the nightstand and turns on the TV. Roman gets up and stretches. “I better…” Roman gestures at his mouth and heads towards the bathroom.

Dean gropes around and comes up with a balled up pair of socks, which he lobs at the back of Roman’s head. “Hey, get me a towel,” he yells.

“Say ‘please,’ bitch” Roman calls back.

“Please, bitch,” Dean sing-songs, winking at Seth. 

Seth shakes his head and laughs. “Walked into that one, dude.”

“Fuck all y'all,” Roman says when he comes back, smiling, and drops a wet washcloth on Dean’s face.

There’s some bitching when Roman makes Dean take his meds and drink some water, but otherwise an easy, companionable silence settles between them, aside from the occasional smart-aleck remark at the television from Seth or Dean. Roman's almost surprised by how comfortable it is to fall into the kind of routine they'd had when they were all sharing one crappy hotel room.

Later, after they've eaten, all they have to do is share a look to know they're heading back to bed, where Seth shoves Dean down to suck him off again. “Gotta take advantage while I can, what can I say?” he says with his most roguish grin.

“You're such an asshole,” Dean rumbles, but he settles happily back in his spot between Seth's thighs. He takes his time licking and nuzzling - drags his closed mouth all over every inch of Seth's cock and then retraces the same path with his tongue. Having already come once, Seth is patient enough to let him do his thing. He even thinks he hears Dean murmuring something a couple times, either to himself or maybe talking to Seth's dick, who knows with Ambrose. He's clearly having fun, though.

Roman's been propped up on an elbow on his side next to Seth and watching. There's a part of him that hates seeing Dean lavish attention on someone else - on someone else's cock specifically, to be perfectly honest. But despite that little wrinkle of jealousy, it also feels completely right for it to be the three of them all together, so he focuses on that. His shoulder is pressed to Seth's arm, and he rests his other hand on Dean's shoulder blade and just lets himself feel happy to be with his brothers, and warmed by the special connection they've always shared.

Dean's now drawing Seth all the way into his mouth before slowly pulling off at different angles, sometimes letting Seth's erection free to bounce upwards, other times letting it smack lightly against his face. “You are something else,” Seth tells him, reaching down to stroke his short, bristly hair.

“Yes he is,” Roman murmurs fondly.

“Shut up,” Dean surfaces to say, always so fidgety with compliments.

“No one asked you,” Seth says sternly, taking hold of Dean’s chin and giving him a light shake. It makes Dean's eyes go hazy again, and his mouth falls open automatically when Seth's thumb brushes the corner of his lips. “Slut,” Seth says, pushing Dean’s face playfully, then immediately pulling him back, groaning as the warmth of Dean's mouth surrounds him. 

Roman runs his hand up to the base of Dean's skull. He doesn't exert any pressure, just rests his palm gently on the back of Dean's neck and follows his movements. It's Seth who's driving for the moment, his hand on the top of Dean's head, fingers digging in slightly to keep him bobbing back and forth.

“Fuck, can I come on your face this time?” Seth asks breathlessly, letting go of Dean so he can pull back and answer. 

“Say please,” Dean smirks, eyes flicking over to Roman, who squeezes the nape of his neck in encouragement, making Dean grin. 

“Please,” Seth says flatly, raising an eyebrow. Roman snorts in amusement at the insincerity.

“What do you think, big dog? Should I let him?”

It quickens Roman's pulse, being deferred to, even if it's just in fun. “Yeah, do it,” he says roughly, suddenly very into the idea of seeing Dean dirtied up like that.

“Well, Rollins, you heard our boy,” Dean says, looking back to Seth, a cocky smile on his face.

“Oh, you're gonna get it now,” Seth mock-threatens.

“Do your worst,” Dean shoots back.

Seth wraps his hand around his cock and quickly works himself back up. “I'm gonna give it to you,” he grits out. “You fuckin’ - you're asking for it. You're gonna take my fucking cum right in the face and love it.” He's all slick with pre-cum, and his pace speeds, almost there. Dean's breath has noticeably picked up, and his pupils are blown, and Seth can feel Roman tensed up with anticipation next to him.

“Fuck, fuck, yes, fuck,” Seth grunts as he squeezes tight right under the head of his dick, tracking his release across Dean's cheek, over to the side of his nose (careful not to get any in his eyes or up his nostrils, because he's a goddamn gentleman), then down to the seam of his lips, tapping his cock there to get the last few drops out. “Whew,” he exhales with a short laugh, giddy with the flood of endorphins and the primal satisfaction of marking Dean so intimately.

Dean's flushed, his eyes wide as he flicks his tongue over his bottom lip, all his swagger momentarily gone. Seth goes back to stroking his hair, murmuring a few ‘thank you's’ interspersed with ‘good job's’, while Roman goes and gets another towel.

When Roman returns, he sits and carefully pulls Dean up and turns him around, then wipes his face off, so gentle that Dean starts to grouch at him, but Roman just kisses him softly and continues until Dean is clean and his cheeks have turned bright pink.

“You all good? Arm okay?” Roman asks after he's done. Dean nods, with only a slight scowl at the continued coddling that Roman banishes by kissing him deeply. Dean surges into it, his tongue pushing insistently into Roman's mouth. Roman tries to press Dean down on the mattress again, but Dean shoves free, and then slips off the bed and to his knees on the floor. Roman wants to pull him up; Dean's already done so much, and that's not really how things were supposed to go. He just wants to make Dean feel good, but he's weak and he's missed this so much it almost hurts to have it again, like a sleeping limb waking up.

He spreads his legs to make room for Dean, who smiles up at him - the kind of smile that tells Roman he's in trouble, then bends and seals his mouth around the head of Roman's cock and sucks noisily. The sudden too-muchness makes Roman jerk, which must have been the reaction Dean had expected, because he uses the movement to let Roman deeper, somehow managing not to catch Roman’s dick with his teeth.

Roman's been half-hard for a while now, and it doesn't take much to get him all the way stiff. Dean pulls back and lifts his left hand and pats the side of Roman's erection like it's a well-behaved dog. “My favorite,” he says, looking up at Roman with a sly smirk, and it's ridiculous how warm and fuzzy it makes Roman feel.

“You're gonna fuck my throat now.” Dean announces nonchalantly, tugging at his wrist until Roman takes the hint and cups the back of Dean's head with one hand. He fits the other along the side of Dean's face, his thumb at the inside edge of Dean's ear, fingers curled around for more support at the curved meeting of spine and skull.

“Show ‘em how it's done,” Dean says softly before calling out, “Rollins! Get closer to the action.”

Seth snorts and pushes himself up with an exaggerated groan. Roman expects Seth to settle next to him, like they'd been arranged before, but Seth gets up and goes to kneel right behind Dean. He tugs Dean's hips back and presses his knees under Dean's thighs to take his weight, then braces Dean's right arm with his own pressed all along to his wrist, which he grasps and holds to Dean's stomach.

“You done?” Dean asks snarkily.

“Yep,” Seth answers, unperturbed. He's a fast learner, and he knows Dean enjoys the brusque and confining touches. Plus, the position lets him murmur right into Dean's ear as Roman starts thrusting slowly into Dean's mouth.

“Fuck, look at you. You just can't get enough, can you?”

Dean exhales heavily through his nose, his free hand grasping at Roman’s knee and then clutching there desperately. 

Roman's pressing in farther now, but keeping the same steady pace, which lets Seth appreciate in full detail the stretch of Dean's lips around Roman's thick cock, and the reflexive gulping noise he makes when Roman hits the back of his throat.

Seth reaches up and smears the spit that's been dragged out by Roman's dick over Dean's chin and all the way down to the base of his throat, where he grips lightly, only pressing enough to feel Dean's racing heartbeat and the obscene bulge of his throat working to take everything Roman is giving him.

“Would you ever say no?” Seth growls. “We could take you out to a nice restaurant and have you suck us off under the table. Me and Roman will be eating steak, and all you'll get is cock. That's all you need, isn't it? You're so hungry for it.”

“Fuck,” Roman groans, “keep going. Both of you.”

“You don't have to worry about Dean stopping. Isn't that right, baby? Bet you'd get on your knees right in the ring for a chance to choke on some dick. We can test that out when you get back - believe that,” Seth says, finishing with a smirk at Roman.

Dean clenches the hand he has on Roman's knee into a fist and hits him, and Roman speeds up his thrusts. His hair his loose, and there's a fine sheen of sweat on his face and chest. He looks like he's in a match - fierce and unleashed, but he's still cradling Dean's head like it’s something fragile and precious, doing the extra work of only using his hips to fuck Dean's mouth rather than pulling Dean on his cock. 

“You ready to swallow for Roman, Deano? Ready to take another load of cum?” Seth asks hotly, before biting Dean's earlobe. Dean whines, a low, vibrating thing, and Seth can almost feel it himself the way it will be tightening Dean's throat, can imagine the rippling of those muscles around Roman's cock.

“I'm, oh-” Roman says helplessly, curling forward as he comes, forcing himself to keep his eyes open to see the pleased, almost peaceful look on Dean's face as he swallows Roman's release. Usually he'd let Dean stay down there as long as he wanted, but he's too eager to make Dean come again to wait. He guides Dean off his cock, feeling an aftershock of pleasure at the dirty sight of how red Dean's mouth looks, and the string of saliva that gets pulled out, shimmering briefly between the tip of Roman's dick and Dean's bottom lip before dribbling onto Dean's chin.

Roman trails his fingers down from Dean's face, thumbs on either side of his Adam's apple, like he's following the path of his cum. Then he bends over farther to wrap an arm around Dean's back, while he uses his other hand to grasp him below his ribs and pull him up. He spins Dean around, sits him in his lap, and mimics Seth's cradling of Dean's injured arm. His other hand finishes drawing a line down Dean's chest and stomach, then goes lower to wrap around Dean's erection. Seth moves forward, sucking sloppily at the tip of Dean's cock each time it emerges from the tight circle of Roman's fist. Between Roman's hand and Seth's mouth, they have Dean falling apart in under a minute. Only a small amount of semen spills over Roman's fingers; Dean barely has anything left after Roman's earlier efforts.

“Fuck,” Dean says, long and drawn-out, his head falling back on Roman's shoulder. “I think you killed me.”

“Nah, you're good,” Seth says with a chuckle, patting Dean's thigh. 

Roman scoots back, pulling Dean with him so they can lie down. Seth is right behind him, flopping forward onto his stomach on the mattress, and promptly passing out. The snoring starts up pretty soon after that, and Roman has to bite back laughter, first at Dean's groan of annoyance, and then again when Dean inelegantly crawls over Roman to get away from it. It puts Dean on the outer edge of the bed and facing outward, and he actually lets Roman spoon him for once, and is even obligingly still while Roman strokes and pets him all over - still enough anyway, squirming if Roman hits a ticklish spot, or rubbing back against Roman to let him know when he especially likes something.

“Thanks,” Dean suddenly mumbles, “for visiting.”

“Course. Missed you, babe,” Roman whispers back with a yawn he smothers into Dean's hair.

Dean snorts. “Missed my mouth, I bet.”

Roman hums and kisses the back of Dean's neck. “And your ass. And your dick. And your hands, and your laugh, and your stories, your terrible jokes, your singing, and-”

“Okay, okay, fuck, I get it - you're so embarrassing.” He's smiling though, and he squeezes the arm Roman has draped over him tightly.

-

Roman dozes for a bit, then rolls Dean onto his back and goes down on him, Dean's legs hooked over his shoulders and Dean biting down on his knuckles to stay quiet.

“Come on, baby, one more for me,” he coaxes, rolling Dean's balls in his hand. “Let me have a taste.” He swallows Dean down again, and Dean tugs so hard on his hair his eyes water, but Roman doesn't protest. He lets Dean move his hips as much as he wants, too, whatever he needs to get there.

Even though it leaves Dean weak and shaky, he still reaches to try and return the favor when Roman moves back up to lie on his side next to him. Roman intercepts his hand, though, and places it on his chest instead. “I need some energy for the match,” he explains with a rueful smile. He knows going into the Chamber sleep-deprived is putting himself at a disadvantage, but he's done more with less.

When they really can't put off heading to the venue any longer, Roman shakes Seth awake. Despite there being multiple bathrooms to choose from, they still take turns using one shower. They can't all fit, so Seth and Roman go first with Dean perched on the counter by the sink, then Seth gets out and Dean takes his place. All three of them stay in the bathroom the whole time, knowing that the clock is running out and not wanting to be separated.

Seth gives Dean a long hug at the door, kisses his temple, and tells him they miss him and want him back soon. Then he grabs the bags and goes to load up the car to give Roman a moment.

Roman pulls Dean in by his waist, and Dean tucks his face into Roman's neck, already flustered by Seth expressing his affection.

“You sure you don't wanna come hang out?” Roman asks hopefully.

“Yeah, I'm not ready,” Dean says, slightly muffled against Roman's collarbone. “Don't want some of those assholes seeing me like this.”

And Roman gets it - he really does, so he doesn't push, just cinches his arms tighter.

“One of you better win tonight,” Dean says after a moment.

“Come on, is there any doubt? Please.”

Dean tips his face up and whispers, “Hey,” like he's got a secret to share. “My money's on you,” he says, still hushed, as if Seth could possibly overhear from outside.

It makes Roman grins so wide it almost hurts his cheeks. “How ‘bout you knock me a little kiss for luck?” he asks.

“Fuckin’ cheesey motherfucker,” Dean gripes, but he goes for it anyway, then keeps kissing Roman until they're interrupted by the honk of the rental car's horn.

“Time to go to work,” Roman sighs, but he still can't make himself let go. He's filled to the brim with things they don't talk about - things that definitely don't need unearthing here and now (or ever, possibly), but he finally settles on, “You gonna let me come check in on you again?”

“Like I could stop you,” Dean says with a lopsided smile, and then, a little stilted and awkward, “but yeah, that'd be good, yeah.”

Another, more prolonged honk prods Roman into getting a move on. It feels wrong leaving Dean behind, but they've been separated before; it comes with the job. He and Dean - and Seth, whatever they have, whatever form it takes, Roman's secure in knowing it's forever.

-

Once they're on the highway, and Seth can't keep his mouth shut any longer, he throws Roman a sidelong glance and smirks.

“What?” Roman asks suspiciously.

Seth whistles and then says, “You've got it bad, brother," teasing, but amiably and without judgment.

Roman groans and wipes his hand over his face. "Shut up," he grumbles, because Seth's not wrong, but they're sure as hell not going to talk about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe that in the time it took me to write this Dean came back from injury, Roman left, beat cancer, came back, and then Dean left WWE and now, less than 24 hours ago, debuted at AEW. What a rollercoaster. But even if he is Jon Moxley again (and I'm happy for him!), The Shield is still forever.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments greatly appreciated. Also, I have a [tumblr ](http://www.eggshellseas.tumblr.com) where I sometimes make wrestling gifs.


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